


Take Notes

by GenerallyDisinterested



Category: The Tick (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Arthur needs a hug, Dangerboat Is Like Gossip Girl, F/M, It's Not As Fluffy As Summary Makes It Out To Be, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Suicide, Nobody Wears The Costumes, Tutoring, but there is also fluff, there is angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 17:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14001432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenerallyDisinterested/pseuds/GenerallyDisinterested
Summary: Tick Super, a popular, beloved student, is failing math. Arthur, an isolated little nerd, is forced to tutor him. This seems a recipe for disaster in all aspects.Especially when Arthur starts catching feelings for his overly enthusiastic student.





	Take Notes

Tick Super is failing math.

Usually, Arthur would count this as a personal victory, because Tick Super is annoying. And by annoying, Arthur means annoyingly attractive, and annoying athletic, and annoyingly enthusiastic, and annoying popular, (because you know someone is popular in high school when their first name is literally Tick and their classmates don’t ruthlessly harass them,) and just annoyingly good at everything. But not at math. He’s failing. Arthur, on the other hand, has sustained a solid A minus in the subject over his three and a half years of high school. He, who screws up everything, is actually better at something than Tick, the epitome of perfection - hence the personal victory Arthur would usually count this as. 

But it’s not a personal victory. Not this time. 

“I have to tutor Tick Super!?” 

“Now don’t be so dramatic.” Dr Karamazov, the school councilor, chides. “It will just be for a few weeks. No more than half an hour after school. You stay that long anyways, waiting for Dot’s soccer practice to let out.”

“It’s not about the time commitment. It’s about the person I’ll be committing my time to.” 

“Tick’s a very nice boy!”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t!”

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“It’s just…” Arthur grapples for the words. “He’s… _Popular_.” Dr Karamazov laughs heartily at this.

“Oh, Arthur.”

“I’m serious! I can’t interact with popular people. It’s like…” Arthur lets out a pained whimper and buries his face in his hands. “Like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Arthur, don’t think like that. This could be a good opportunity for you. Dot mentioned you’ve been particularly isolated lately…” Arthur removes his hands from his face, alarmed. 

“Dot talked to you? About me?” Dr Karamazov folds his hands politely on his lap and looks at Arthur like something broken. 

“It is around that time of year. The day’s coming up this month, isn’t it? She’s concerned. You… Didn’t take it so well last year.”

“That’s not going to happen again,” Arthur says quickly. “I mean, like, yeah, the anniversary of my dad’s death will always be hard, but I’m not gonna… Look. I’m fine now. I don’t need any more friends.” The Dr Karamazov thins out his lips.

“Fine. Then don’t think of it as a friendship. Think of it as a professional exchange. You’re the teacher, he’s the student, and that’s that.” 

“But—“ A rhythmic dinging over the loud speakers cuts him off, marking the first time in history a teacher was the one saved by the bell. Dr Karamazov opens a binder, flipping carelessly through the papers. 

“Tick will meet you in the library today, three o’clock. Run on to class, now.” 

With another groan, Arthur stands and speed-walks out, making a mental note to yell at Dot on the ride home. 

After he finishes tutoring Tick Super. 

 

“Arthur?” 

Arthur winces. Why does he feel the need to talk so loudly, and in a library, no less? And why is he so much damn taller up close, Arthur notes when he turns to look at him, and why does he still have his sweat drenched tank top on from last period gym class? Couldn’t he have spent five minutes changing, or at least applying deodorant? 

_And why the hell is he so attractive in spite of all this?_

Tick laughs when Arthur stands and extends a hand in a professional manner.

“No need for that now, chum, we’ve been going to school together for almost four years!” 

“Yeah, uh, I know, but, um—“

“Come on, bring it in!” Arthur fights back a yelp in surprise when Tick takes his hand and yanks him into a large, sweaty hug. 

“Woah! Uh, Tick, no no, this, uh, this isn’t how students should interact with their teachers…” 

“But it’s how friends should interact,” Tick declares loudly, not taking Arthur’s wriggling as a cue to release him. “And anyone who takes time out of their day to help someone else with math is a darn good friend, in my book at least!”

“No, Tick, no!” Arthur wrenches free with some struggle. “Look, we’re not friends.”

“We’re not?” This seems to take Tick by surprise. 

“No, of course not! You don’t even know me.”

“Sure I do! You’re Arthur! Arthur Everest!” 

“Yeah, but being friends means more than knowing someones name.”

“Like what?”

“I… I don’t know. Having conversations?”

“I’d say this thing we’re having right now is a conversation.”

“Right, but, um, it’s more than that… It’s like… Uh, making sacrifices for one another.” 

“You’re sacrificing your time to teach me math right now!”

“Urg! Tick, that’s not the same… Okay. Let’s just get working.” Arthur reseats himself. Tick takes the seat right next to him and scoots unnecessarily close.

“Roger that!” 

An awkward silence precedes. Arthur watches Tick expectantly. Tick beams right back at him, unmoving. 

“…Are you gonna get out your math work?” 

“Oh! Right, right. A sharp one, aren’t you? Nothing gets past you, does it? You’d make a great detective, you know that? Sherlock Holmes! No, more like Dr Watson. I’d be Sherlock. Whadda say, chum? Drop out of school and become detectives? You’re the brain, I’m the brawn?” 

“Tick, you literally can’t not be the brain and still be Sherlock. He’s the definition of brains. Actually, in the original series… Never mind. Just get out your math, okay?” 

“Of course!”

The library door swings open as Tick is bending down to get his book bag. With a panicked “Oh, crap!” Arthur dives under the table. There’s barely seconds of pause before he’s joined by Tick.

“An interesting tutoring tactic. Are we, like, a human fraction? We’re the denominator? Shouldn’t one of us go on top of the table to be the numerator?” 

“No, Tick, this isn’t tutoring. Terror just walked in.” 

“Terror?” 

“Yes, Terror. _The_ Terror.”

Obviously, Terror’s real name isn’t Terror. As deranged as his parents are, and they must be pretty damn deranged to spawn such an absolute demon, they wouldn’t name their son Terror. If Arthur recalls correctly, before he was dubbed Terror, he actually had quite a generic name. John, or Timmy, or something else blissfully innocent and normal. Maybe that’s why his name was gradually adapted to something more character suiting. 

“You should never hide from people, Arthur,” Tick chides, looking very serious. “Hiding won’t do any good.”

“Actually, in this particular instance, I think it will do a lot of good.” From placing his chin on the ground to peer under and seeing the studded high heels standing next to Terror’s jet black combat boots, Arthur can infer that his equally bone-chilling girlfriend Janet Lint is with him. A few paces away from them is another pair of combat boots. Esteban, probably, or Overkill, as he likes to be called in monument to the time he killed more people than ever done before in one round of some absurdly violent video game. 

Not the nicest bunch, those three. 

“You shouldn’t be scared of Terror and his gang. They’re all bark, no bite.” 

“Well, for people like me, they’re both, okay? You’re all muscle and popularity and can actually fight back. I’ve been going to school with Terror since grade school. He knows I’m weak and I can’t fight back. I have a reason to be afraid.” Tick frowns. 

“Well, this simply won’t do.”

“Tick, don’t—“

But Arthur’s already being dragged out from under the table, and just a second after at prompt of an ungentle shove, he’s tumbling out in front of the three, proceeding to trip and fall right on his face. The three voices conjoint in laughter. 

“Very smooth,” Janet Lint mocks. Overkill just shakes his head, mumbling something about how clumsy small people can be. 

“This is a good look for you.” Terror’s raspy voice is brimmed with delight. “Kneeling before your superiors.” 

“Ahem.” Tick takes a step forwards. “I’d advise you stop talking to my friend that way.” 

“This nerd is not your friend.” Janet Lint says this like it’s simple fact. “People like us aren’t friends with people like him.”

“I don’t know what you mean by _us_ , Ms Lint. I definitely want no part of your posse. I like to be nice to people. And Arthur here is both nice and smart!” 

“Well Dangerboat has you in with us on the cliques page,” Overkill interjects, a bit of a dreamy look filling his eyes. “Ah, Dangerboat. A gossip web sight devoted to the happenings at our school. I wonder which awesome student is running it.” Janet turns to him, looking done in all forms.

“Dude. Literally everyone knows it’s you.” 

“Dangerboat, Dangerboat,” Overkill continues. “So beautiful in it’s impenetrable mysteriousness.” 

“I don’t care what Dangerboat says,” Tick continues. “I’d never associate with you people. Especially you, Terror.” Terror raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh? And why is that?” 

“You’re _mean!_ You always have been! I heard a rumor that you pulled some poor boy’s pants down in forth grade for the whole school to see!” Arthur feels his face heat up. 

“Tick…” Arthur looks helplessly up at him. “That was me.” Tick’s eyes widen.

“No…” 

“My, I had almost forgotten!” Terror is laughing now. “That was a good day.” 

“Awh, and I missed it?” Janet pouts. “I knew I should have transferred from that preppy ass private school before ninth grade. That’s something I would have really liked to see.” An idea glimmer’s behind Terror’s eyes. 

“Well, there’s no reason you shouldn’t see it. Who am I to deprive my girlfriend of such hilarity.”

Arthur feels a little sick when Terror reaches down to forcefully yank him up by the collar and drag him down the hallway towards the cafeteria, where most the students hang out after hours. If Arthur remembers correctly, he’s wearing the tighty whities with the red words “SHAKE WHAT YOUR MAMA GAVE YA” imprinted on the butt. His mother had got them for him as a joke on his last birthday, and he claimed he was going to throw them away the next day. He would have if he hadn’t put them on and discovered they’re perhaps the most comfortable pair of underpants he’d ever worn. Besides, nobody would ever see them. Until today, it seems.

“You let him go this instant!” Tick is chasing after them, talking in a loud, angry voice. Terror is faster, though, and Janet is purposely trailing behind Tick, stepping on the back of his shoes to slow him down. Arthur is trying to yank free, but Terror has him in a death grip. 

“Come on, man.” Overkill sounds a little unsure. “Isn’t this pretty juvenile?”

“So? It’s funny.” The cafeteria looks particularly crowded today, and everyone seems to be on their phone. There will be at least fifty shots of this on Dangerboat from several different angles, if Terror goes through with this. 

“Please don’t,” Arthur whispers breathlessly. Terror just smirks and moves his hands to Arthur’s waist, lifting him up on a middle table where everyone can see. 

“Ya shoulda just stayed in your little bubble of social oblivion, kid.” Terror reaches both hands forwards, and Arthur’s blue jeans are tugged to his ankles. 

It takes a beat for the room to process before erupting into laughter. As expected, some people instantly switch to their camera apps and take pictures. Some people have their hands over their mouths, gasping through shocked cackles. A group of football jockeys are chanting for Arthur to follow the underwear's command and shake what his mama gave him. 

Arthur reaches down the second he transitions from modified paralyzation and tugs up his jeans. He jumps down from the table and sprits out of the cafeteria, tears stinging his eyes. The cheers and screams follow him down the hall, only growing fading out when he exits the building. He doesn’t bother going back to the library to get his book bag. He doesn’t bother finishing the tutoring lesson, which would probably almost be ending had it gone the way it was supposed to. 

Arthur knew this whole thing was a bad idea. Popular kids and nobodies just don’t mix. Now he can never show his face in school again. This is all Tick’s fault. 

“Arthur!” Dot is running across the parking lot, still in her soccer uniform. “I saw what happened on Dangerboat. Are you okay?” 

“No, of course I’m not okay.” Arthur make his way to Dot’s car, assuming she’ll follow. She does. 

“Arthur, wait a minute. Talk to me.” 

“No! I’m done with talking! I want to go home!” 

“Arthur!” Arthur whirls around to face his sister, a sudden realization hitting him. 

“Why’d you have to go and talk to Dr Karamazov, huh?”

“Because I was worried about you!” 

“Well you shouldn't have.”

“Shouldn't have been worried about you? Are you fucking serious, Arthur?” Dot runs a stressed and through her hair. 

“Yes, I’m serious! This never would have happened if you hadn’t talked to him! Now my life is ruined!”

“You remember what happened last year,” Dot snaps. “Last year on the anniversary of Dad’s death. You remember what happened, and you except me not be be worried!”

“I told you, I’m fine now! How many times do I have to keep saying that!” 

“That’s what you said last year, too!” Dot raises her voice to an alarming volume. “You said you were fine, just like this year, but you had no friends, just like this year, and all you did was sleep, watch TV, and read, just like this year! And I believed you last year, Arthur, I really did. You said you were fine, and I believed you, and then I came home that day and…” Dot stops, voice breaking at the end. She looks down, biting her lip and clenching her fists. 

“Dot…”

“There was so much blood, Arth. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did…” 

“But you did,” Arthur cuts her off, stepping forwards and taking one of her hands. “You did, and you called mom, and you guys got me to the hospital in time. I was just feeling really bad then. I had a panic attack and I did something stupid. I regret it so much. Really, I do. I would never want to leave you and mom. It was a bad decision on a bad day. It’ll never happen again.” Dot look at Arthur, eyes unconvinced. “It’s different this year,” he adds, frantic. 

“How?”

“I… I made a friend.” Dot raises an eyebrow. 

“Who?”

“Tick,” Arthur says without thinking. “Yeah. Tick Super. We really hit it off during the lesson. Friends at first sight, I guess.”

“I thought you hated popular people.”

“He’s different, though. We, uh, we talked about Sherlock. He said I was smart. I felt so good about myself that I decided to stand up to Terror and his gang when they came in. A horrible decision, really, and I paid the price, but this new friendship thing… It was worth it.” 

Arthur holds his breath. He’s a horrible liar, and there’s about a one in a million chance Dot bought all that. But for once, life was kind to him, and his sister just smiled and wrapped him in a hug. 

“I’m glad, Arthur, really. You should have him over sometime.” 

“Yeah. Maybe. Definitely.” Dot released him from the hug to lace an arm over his shoulder. The two synchronize their steps on the way to her car.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought you said you were gonna throw away those tighty whities.” 

“Shut up.” 

The two of them laugh, and chat non-stop all the way home, and everything’s fine, other than the fact that Arthur and what his mama gave him is now going to be the punchline to every joke for at least a month, and on top of that, he has to pretend to be friends with Tick Super.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo yo yoyo
> 
> So this is like a tiny ass fandom that I've fallen into lol. Idk if i'll continue this but tell me what you think!!


End file.
